


A Close Precision

by swimmybevs (orphan_account)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Artist/Model AU, M/M, Mavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 21:07:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1124399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/swimmybevs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Model!Gavin / Artist!Michael: Michael has been taking art classes to relieve some of his stress. Meanwhile he has noticed Gavin has taken time off work more than usual and one day he comes into work looking amazing with new clothes and hair and what not. Michael questions him but Gavin shrugs it off. A short while later Michael is attending his regular art classes and who happens to be the model? The one and only Gavin Free. And who happens to be very naked? Well…</p><p>Warnings: RPF, swearing, masturbation, blowjobs</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Close Precision

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as part of the Mavin Fic Bang 2013.  
> (I would like to apologise profusely for the delay).
> 
> Art by the very talented Melanie (hokagesama on tumblr).  
> http://swimmybevs.tumblr.com/post/72542915365/title-a-close-precision-author-swimmybevs

It had been two years since Michael had started taking art classes when it happened.

He had taken up art as a hobby when he found out that ‘apparently’ playing video games did not exert enough of his obvious pent up anger and aggression. In fact, chances were it most likely contributed to it (who was he kidding, how many fucking people get paid to be irrationally angry once a week? It most certainly contributed to it).  
He had been seeing a therapist - unbeknown to everyone in Michael’s life - who suggested he took up something a little more creative.  
He had taken art while at school but had never given it even so much as a thought since leaving, until then. He had looked up local art studios and found one close by that had art classes every Saturday for the affordable low price of $15 per session.

After a lot of internal debating he actually came to love the hobby. Art had been so therapeutic; each medium bringing something so unique to Michael.  
Painting was so calming in the way each individual bristle of the paintbrush marked the canvas with paint. All of those tiny, individual brush strokes coming together to form something incredibly beautiful. Michael thought it was absolutely fascinating and there was an overwhelmingly satisfying feeling when he could create something he was so honestly proud of.  
Clay sculpting, although extremely difficult, was always relaxing. Feeling the wet clay between and beneath his fingers reminded him of being a child again. He was taken back to the days when all he had to worry about was which costume he would wear from the dress-up box in kindergarten or who he would play with in the sandbox and which colour play-dough he would use. He could apply the pressure with his finger tips to mould the clay. He could manipulate it and make it his own. He could make it whatever he wanted it to be; something he could never do to himself.  
However, something the young man loved more than anything was charcoal. There was nothing quite like creating an image entirely out of the colour black. Thick and thin lines, some darker, some lighter, creating shadows and highlights, contouring a beautiful piece of art. However, the way the charcoal left black dust embedded in the creases in his skin; his hands completely blackened, was what he loved most of all.

So, almost every Saturday, as per his therapist’s advice, he sat in the same art studio surrounded by vibrant colours, potted plants (some scientific bullshit about increasing stimuli for the brain), easels, workbenches and of course; people. Some were regulars and some would only appear once. Yet never had Michael encountered someone he knew… until then.

\-- 

Two months earlier.

“Where the fuck is?” Michael yelled kicking Gavin’s desk. The thing gave one great, ominous shudder, threatening to finally collapse. Once again, Michael had arrived late to work to find Gavin also missing from his desk in the Achievement Hunter office. This had become a regular occurrence over the last three or so months. The four other men turned their heads towards him in a fit of anger. Brows furrowed over their eyes like daggers. Clearly, they were in the middle of recording a Let’s Play (one that Michael may or may not have been scheduled to be in). Geoff spun his chair around to face Michael, crossing his arms in front of him.  
“You’re late.” He growled.  
“And so is the British prick… again,” he yelled. Michael walked over to his desk and threw his backpack on the ground before taking a seat. He began to fiddle with his monitors and Xbox trying to ignore Geoff’s double standards. “I don’t understand, you have to take him to work, yet he’s never fucking here.”  
Geoff spun back to face his desk, “unlike you, Gav gave me notice. He’s catching a cab in later, he had things to do.” And just like that the discussion was over. Michael loaded up the game, demanded an invite, tested his microphone and began to record.

He continued to fume silently for hours afterwards; the Let’s Play recording truly over and done with. He had put on his best performance for the video, only a minuscule amount of his annoyance seeping through. He then returned to editing his Rage Quit in silence. The gentle whirring of his monitors drowned out Jack and Geoff’s bickering and Ray’s fucking incessant clicking.

He was fucking furious with Gavin. He was sick of that fucking mincy little git being late to work and missing Let’s Plays and shit. Even the viewers had become suspicious about Gavin’s absences. What the fuck could he possibly be doing all the time?  
Michael would understand if it was once or twice but it had been almost four fucking months full of days where Gavin wouldn’t be at his desk when Michael arrived at work. The British idiot would mosey on in around midday or later and brush it off like he was never even gone. When Michael would question him all he would say was that he had been at a meeting and that he couldn’t talk about it.  
Fuck that.  
Fuck him.  
He was getting fucking sick of Gavin not being there. He didn’t fucking even know why he was so annoyed. Maybe it was the fact that Gavin was being paid to play video games for a living and he didn’t even seem bothered to show up to that. What a fucking git.

Though maybe (and mostly likely), it was because Gavin wouldn’t tell Michael where he had been going. He would brush it off every single time. He wouldn’t say where he had been. He wouldn’t say who he was with. He wouldn’t say what he was doing.  
Did Gav not trust him? They told each other everything… almost everything. 

And, although Michael would deny it if anyone said it, he fucking missed Gavin. He was his best friend, he was allowed to miss him, right? Like all those times went back home to England. They had missed each other then so why wouldn’t he be allowed to miss him now?

The point was Michael wanted to know; he needed answers. He was finally going to find out where the fuck Gavin had been going; what he had been doing. He would harass the fucking shit out of him until he found out. If that was what it took. The fucking bitch deserved everything Michael was going to throw at him.

\--

Michael was sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting. Waiting for the door to open and that noisy, annoying twat to walk through it, then he would pounce. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his mouse. He felt his blood boiling hot. His thoroughly bitten fingernails (unfortunate nervous habit) scratched roughly against desk as he sat there; impatiently waiting.

\--

Gavin nervously and anxiously walked toward the RT office building. He fiddled uncomfortably with the hem of his shirt that was haphazardly and untidily poking out from beneath his sweater as he crossed the parking lot. He watched as the cab he had caught back to work drove off down the road and out of sight. The noise of the engine faded softly afterwards. 

He swallowed hard and with a shaking hand opened up the door to the main building. It was uncharacteristically quiet and the silence set Gavin’s heart rate beating faster than before. He could hear the beating echoing in his ears. His breathing was shallow and fast and not at all helping the situation at hand.  
He tried to swallow down the lump in his throat as he crossed the empty entry, his shoes clicking against the hard tiles. He stood alone outside the Achievement Hunter office door keeping as silent as possible.  
He knew he had to go in. He couldn’t hide away for ever, no matter how great that sounded to him at that moment. 

He took a deep breath in through his nose, filling his lungs to capacity. He wrapped his long fingers around the cold metal door handle, though his muscles refused to turn it. Still holding his breath he began to count in his head:  
3…  
2..  
1…  
‘You can do this,’ he mentally told himself. ‘Don’t think about what they’ll say. Don’t think about what they’ll do. Just go in there just as you do every day. If they like it, run with it. If they hate it, stand up for yourself. Do not be the punching bag for their criticism. This is your life, Gavin Free.’

His unsteady grip tightened on the door handle and with one last final positive feeling he pushed down on the handle. The metal lock clicked open and Gavin slowly pushed the door inwards, exhaling shakily as he did so.

\--

Michael was mere fucking seconds from crushing his mouse within his grip when the door finally opened. He checked the time on his screen (also mentally noting it as a possible time of death). With his words ready in the back of his throat, Michael pushed himself back from his desk and spun his chair right to face Gavin. But the words got caught in his throat as he saw the sight in front of him.  
No longer was this the British idiot he knew. Gone was his Captain Dynamic shirt and checked shorts. No more, mixing of plaid and stripes. And his tattered shoes were missing.  
In their place were maroon skinny jeans and a black sweater over what appeared to be a white, collared dress shirt. His hair, perfectly coiffed, seemed like it had been highlighted slightly and his skin looked positively radiant. Michael’s jaw slackened a little as he stared.

He faintly heard Ray catcalling from behind him, whistling a little while Geoff laughed out a “Jordan, is that you?” Gavin gave one of his small, stupid giggles along with Jack and Ray while giving the room a once over. His eyes landed finally on Michael who continued to stare, bewildered.  
“What?” Gavin started, blushing a little, “have I got something on my face?” Michael blinked a couple of times, amazed by the sight in front of him.  
‘You look great,’ he thought to himself but then cleared his throat quickly and replied jokingly. “Yeah, it’s your huge fucking nose.”

\--

Only a short amount of time passed before Gavin’s ‘little secret’ came out. He had admitted that he had been modelling for at least four months.  
“It started because I needed a bit of extra dosh (those trips back home don’t pay for themselves) and then I kind of just got stuck. People started requesting me for their shoots and then suddenly I was getting a full on new look,” He had told Chris and Kerry at lunch one day, Michael quietly drinking his coffee in the corner.

Gavin had decided that the hours of torment would be less harmful to him if he told everyone personally rather than someone on Twitter finding his photo-shoots and tweeting them to his co-workers. And although that was probably true it did not mean that this alternative option was at all easy.

Ryan, Jack and Geoff’s teasing would probably last an entire month while Burnie and Gus would get bored of it after only a couple of weeks.  
Geoff was family so it was practically his job to tease him and Burnie and Gus could practically make a living off of making fun of Gavin; in fact they basically did.

After a week and a half however, Michael and Ray had kept surprisingly quiet about it. Other than Ray’s occasional cheer of “got ‘em,” the lads seemed to just accept the change.  
Gavin was thankful for that.

Other than the majority of the female (and some of the male) fan base the Lads were the only people who had actually appreciated what Gavin had been doing.  
And by appreciating, Gavin simply meant understanding. Understanding why he had kept it a secret. Understanding why it was hard for him to tell everyone. Understanding why he had shared it now rather than later.  
As two of his best friends they were good at that. Even if they didn’t say it, they didn’t have to. Gavin knew.

\--

Two weeks after the ‘big (apparently ‘little’ didn’t seem to cover it) secret’ came out Gavin found himself curled up on Michael’s old tatty couch, a bev in hand and Disney’s Up flickering on the TV. They had originally planned a re-watch of season one of Game of Thrones however when he arrived Gavin ended up silently putting Up in the DVD player. Michael didn’t have the heart to argue with him.  
It was the first time since the ‘reveal’ that Gavin had had some down time. It was as if everything that had happened was like a giant, cascading avalanche seconds from sweeping him away and suffocating him. But with Michael he felt like he had finally escaped it. Even if it was only for a short while, he could finally breathe again.

It wasn’t long before Gavin was quoting the movie and Michael feigned annoyance. “But it’s a talking dog!” Gavin squawked loudly before Michael swung his arm at him.  
“Shut the fuck up, you moron,” he growled through a secret smile. Gavin fell silent.

The gentle glow the screen was emitting was the only light in the room, casting dark shadows across his friend’s face. The silence between them was comfortable and familiar.  
“Thanks,” Gavin murmured hesitantly into the dim, silence. He knotted his fingers together, his beer resting, forgotten, in his lap.  
“For what?” Michael replied through a mouthful of Pringle’s before muting the TV. He chucked the remote carelessly on the coffee table causing packets to crinkle and glass to chime. He licked the flavouring off of his fingers and then wiped them messily on his jeans. He turned to Gavin and waited.  
Gavin shrugged lightly, leaning into the couch. “For not laughing,” he mumbled, pressing his face into the soft cushioning. His voice had a tone of embarrassment that made Michael’s stomach squirm. He knew Gavin felt vulnerable. Michael scooted closer to him, putting a hand on Gavin’s knee, lightly brushing his fingers over the denim.  
“Gav, I would never,” he whispered quietly. Gavin slumped onto Michael, his head resting on his chest. Michael put his beer on the ground and wrapped his arms around the other man. He lay his cheek against the top of Gavin’s head, his hair lightly tickling Michael’s cheekbone. “Never,” he reaffirmed.  
“Why are you being so nice, Michael?” Gavin muttered, his breath hot against Michael’s chest.  
“I…” Michael began, he didn’t know whether he should be honest or not. 

He felt like he could pour out his soul to Gavin. In fact, he often wished he hadn’t kept art a secret. Sometimes he wished he could have admitted his passion like Gavin. He just didn’t have the courage. It wasn’t as if creating art was uncommon, especially not within the Rooster Teeth office. It was however, the fact that Michael was insecure. What if his work wasn’t any good? What if all of his time and effort had been wasted on pieces of shit? Not to mention the fact that the reason he took up art was because his therapist recommended it. He was sure that would rouse several unwanted interrogations that he was not now nor ever going to be ready for.

He wanted to let Gavin know that he understood exactly how he felt. He knew it wasn’t easy. He knew how it felt for the struggle within your own mind to keep you awake at night; constantly buzzing about, always nagging away at the back of every thought. The feeling made him so anxious and that was fucking terrifying.  
The feeling of loving something so much yet being unable to admit it for fear of ridicule and rejection was not a pleasant one, to put it lightly.

Michael finally concluded that no, it was too late to bring it up. It had been two whole years, if he hadn’t admitted it already he probably never would. Plus now was Gavin’s time, he wasn’t about to make this all about him.

“Because you are my boy and I care about you, you little shit.” With that, Gavin curled further into Michael’s arms, a small smile tugging on his lips. And that’s how they stayed until sleep took them both to a place much simpler than reality.

–

Gavin’s eyes blinked open, filling his vision with the soft light of the sunrise. He smiled at the warmth of Michael beneath him. Michael’s body heat pressed against his back soothed him in his early awakening.

He felt content listing to their breaths mingling together in the still, stagnant air.  
Gavin imagined this would be a pleasant way to awake every morning. He craved for something as sweet as that. Something beautifully constant. Something he could reply on. Something that made his heart flutter no matter what.

With a small smile playing on his lips, Gavin reluctantly but very carefully pulled himself off of the couch.  
Careful not to disturb the still sleeping Michael, Gavin reached for the television remote, hitting the power to end the still muted DVD menu from looping once more. He then began to pick the packets of food and half empty bottles off of the small coffee table.  
Wincing as the bottles clicked together, Gavin glanced back over to Michael who, still in a deep slumber, slept with a soft smile upon his face. Gavin gave a relieved sighed with a smile and placed all of the leftovers in their respective places within Michael’s kitchen. Keeping his actions quiet Gavin grabbed a glass from one of the overhead cabinets and poured himself a glass of cold water from the jug Michael kept in the fridge.  
He listened to the steady rhythm of Michael’s deep breathing as he slowly drank from the glass. 

It was a comfortable silence that fell over the apartment and as much as Gavin wished he could stay he knew he couldn’t be there when Michael woke. He wasn’t ready for any kind of deep conversation about the things going on and the easiest way to avoid that was to leave, and quickly. So, taking a scrap of paper from the pile of letters and the like on Michael’s kitchen bench and a pen that took a few scribbles to get working, he wrote a quick note.  
He placed the piece of paper on the coffee table in the place of the mess he had cleaned up and gave a soft kiss to Michael’s curly hair before sneaking to the front door, twisting it open, locking it from the inside and pulling it shut with a gentle click.

\--

Michael awoke, alone on the couch. He fixed his glasses that sat askew on the bridge of his nose before clearing his eyes from beneath them. The morning sun was shining through the sheer curtains at the window. The pleasant glow and warmth danced across his skin. The coffee table was clear of any evidence of the previous night and in the place of snacks and drinks lay a small white square of paper. Michael stretched forward, the bones in his shoulders clicking and stretching pleasantly, and plucked the note off the table. In a messy scrawl it read:

Thanks for last night.  
~ Gav

\--

Michael found himself in his usual position in the art studio the next day. He had felt things getting a little out of hand within the office and was thankful for some downtime. And although he had the prior night with Gavin, it felt like a breath of fresh air to be alone.  
He arranged his equipment in a precise manner in front of him and waited for Angus – the elderly gentleman who taught the classes – to begin.  
It wasn’t long before the greying man with the hunch was standing at the front of the class and saying, as he always did: “To those of you who are new; welcome. And to those of you who keep coming back; bugger off.”  
Michael couldn’t help but notice the man received a few laughs that week which lead him to believe there were a plethora of newcomers in the room.  
Testing his theory, he scanned the studio from his seat up the back for unfamiliar heads. As his gaze swept across the rows of people his eyes caught sight of a young girl with bright orange hair sitting towards the front of the space, alone.  
People with bold features such as this were not uncommon in these art classes but there was something about this one girl that stood out to Michael. He couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was but he seemed different, enigmatic almost. Perhaps it was simply curiosity that played at Michael’s mind but he seemed like this girl was of some importance. Or perhaps it was that he had noticed that she kept glancing back at him.

Eventually, Michael came to learn that light was the focus for the class and as Angus explained the task he had absolutely no idea what he was going to draw. Michael set his water colours aside and lay down a clean page to draw on at his workbench before placing what he didn’t need back into his backpack.

He decided he would draw whatever came to him. He took his earphones from his pocket and plugged them into his phone and hit play on his playlist. And he wished he could say he was listening to something bad ass and manly but in reality his playlist consisted mainly of Florence + the Machine and Marina and the Diamonds.

Picking up a grey pencil Michael set to work, letting his hand draw what his mind couldn’t see yet.

\--

About an hour later Michael still wasn’t sure what he was drawing. He hadn’t stopped to look back on what he had done so far he just continued to pick up colours, scratch lines on the paper and then blend them out with water and a paintbrush. He continued to layer the colours from lightest to darkest on the paper creating light and shadows.

Michael was using a soft yellow colour when he noticed her in his peripheral vision. The girl with the orange hair had come to sit in the seat next to him. He looked to her and smiled kindly. She gestured to him to take out his earphones, which he did hesitantly.  
“Hi,” she chimed brightly, her voice like a harp. Michael nodded at her politely and placed his pencil down. “I am Felicity,” she smiled and offered her pale, slender hand to him. Michael took her hand in his and shook it once. “I’m Michael,” he said, noticing the smattering of freckles across her delicate knuckles.  
“Gorgeous work, Michael,” she gestured towards the page lying in front of him.  
He laughed nervously, “thank you, I’m not quite sure what it is yet,” he told her honestly.  
Her eyebrows creased and she tilted her head slightly. Michael noticed her eyes, a pure green, framed by long, mascara coated lashes. “So, who is this?” She asked, confused, pointing towards the drawing once more. Confused, Michael looked at his page for the first time since the encounter with Felicity began. In fact, it was the first time he had actually looked at it since starting it. He recognised the scene that was depicted in front of him. 

He saw a young man, curled up on a deep maroon sofa his face half in the shadows, the other half illuminated by the light from a television. The picture was still far from finished and yet Michael knew exactly who the man in the picture was.  
“Oh, um…” he turned back to Felicity, “that’s Gavin.”  
She smiled once more at him making her eyes crease in the corners. Her pale pink lips and prominent Cupid ’s bow curled upwards showing off her bright white teeth.  
“Is Gavin your boyfriend?” She asked sweetly. Michael choked on the air he was breathing, and began to turn a brilliant shade of red. He coughed and spluttered and Felicity began to laugh softly. “I will take that as a no,” she stated softly.  
“Absolutely not,” Michael said, his voice rough, before coughing once more. “He’s just a good friend from work,” he added.  
She hummed to herself, contemplatively. “Well, it seems as if I have over-stepped a line and made this sufficiently awkward. It was nice to meet you, Michael.” Felicity knocked her knuckles on the bench and looked back to the drawing. “It looks like you really love him,” she said and with that she left with a smile upon her face.

Michael was left alone to watch her slink away back to her seat up the front, aghast, mouth hanging open pathetically. She left him lost within his own mind. Had he really just subconsciously drew his view of Gavin from last night? And why the fuck did this random chick think Michael loved Gavin?  
Did Michael love Gavin?  
Fuck.

After all of the looks, the whispers, the jokes... was this really becoming a reality? It seemed so, no matter how much it terrified him.  
Maybe when you spend so long with one person – as Michael had with Gavin - you begin to lose yourself within them, until eventually it's not just you and I - it's us.  
Perhaps it was an inevitability. Something far larger than Michael or Gavin.  
Love is funny like that. It creeps up on you slowly, every day growing bit by bit, yet you never seem to take notice of it. And then one day – shit - you notice. And it might take a complete stranger with radical hair to make it happen, but it's going to happen whether you like it or not.

\--

With his mind in a whirl, his head clouded with thoughts he would have never even considered in a million years, Michael arrived at work on Monday morning. He opened the door to the Achievement Hunter office to find Gavin already at his desk, headphones on, clicking away at his computer. Apart from the Brit, the office was empty and still. It was silent with the exception of humming monitors and the clicking of Gavin’s mouse.

“Morning Gavvy,” Michael cooed. He walked to his own desk accidentally brushing against the Brit who proceeded to jump out of his skin at the slightest touch. “Jesus Christ Gav,” Michael cussed as him.  
Gavin blinked rapidly and looked up at Michael, “oh it’s just you,” he mumbled. His voice was quiet and panicked; his eyes dark  
Michael furrowed his eyebrows and squinted at the other man. He muttered a sarcastic “good to see you too,” under his breath. What the fuck was wrong with him? Michael glanced back over at Gavin who had continued working on whatever it was he was editing. He looked nervous and was biting at his nails. It was so strange to see Gavin so quiet. That seemed to be becoming a regular thing these days.

Perhaps the new job was getting to Gav.  
He seemed to be anxious most days but this was something entirely new. He looked like he hadn’t slept. And judging by the dark circles that sat beneath his eyes and the large can of Red Bull sitting next to his keyboard Michael was most likely right.  
He was actually beginning to become genuinely concerned for Gavin and his well-being.

\--

When confronting Gavin, Michael knew he would have to tackle the subject lightly. So Michael asked Gavin if they could have a chat over lunch. This found the two of them in the office kitchen, Michael with a coffee and Gavin with what seemed to be at least his third large Red Bull of the day. And it was only around 1:30.

Michael began hesitantly, “how are you feeling, Gav?” He asked gently running his fingertips back and forth over the table’s surface.  
“Top,” Gavin replied sluggishly, the smile he gave Michael not quite reaching his heavy-lidded eyes. He took a swig from his drink and waited for Michael to speak once more.  
Michael nodded at Gav; his eyebrows slightly knitted together, eyes filled with a soft look of concern. “I’m just worried about you,” he added softly. “You don’t look like you have been sleeping, you’re barely talking at all and you’re jumping every time someone approaches you. I’m not going to lie but it is genuinely freaking me the fuck out,” he finished honestly.  
“I’m fine,” Gavin told him with the same ‘not quite right’ smile. “Don’t you worry about me, boy.” He got up from the table they were sitting at, his chair scraping harshly against the tiled floor. “I’m fine, honestly.”

Not that Michael was inclined to believe him in the first place but walking back into the office to find Gav passed out on the couch, curled into himself, head resting on his balled up hoodie solidified his concerns.

\-- 

Falling face first into his pillow Michael groaned loudly. His head pounded and his eyes stung dryly. It had been an exhausting week even though he had done hardly anything. He had worried himself sick over Gavin and his newly discovered anxiety and narcolepsy. The incident with the office couch on Monday was the first of many encounters with Gavin and his talent of falling asleep in various locations throughout the building; the best of which was under Kerry’s desk.

With a few loud cracks emitting from his bones, Michael rolled onto his back and grabbed his phone off the sheets beside him. He swiped his finger across the screen and typed in his pass code easily. He paused for a moment before deciding to check Twitter quickly. He tapped over to the mentions tab where he was bombarded with tweets linking to a single URL. The first tweet read:

@colourthehours 13 September  
OMG @GavinFree this is holyfuckingshitdicksasdfghjkl @AH_Michael have you seen it yet? pic.twitter.com/9wf…

Curious, Michael cautiously clicked on the link, preparing for what could possibly follow. A myriad of possibilities crossed his mind. However, what graced his eyes was far from anything he had expected. 

His phone screen displayed a black and white Calvin Klein advertisement. He swallowed hard as he took in the image. Gavin Free; shirtless, dripping wet, wearing the tightest, whitest CK briefs Michael had ever had the motherfucking pleasure to bear witness to. He bit back a gasp as he took in the image. Gavin had his head thrown back, eyes shut, mouth open. His neck was curved back accentuating his stubble-covered jaw and Michael couldn’t help himself from wondering what it would be like to bruise the soft skin with his teeth. The Brit had one hand gripping tightly in his hair while the other hung limply by his side. The multitude of inappropriate thoughts Michael was having shocked him immensely. But the way the water was running down Gavin’s chest and across his toned stomach, not to mention the v muscle across his lower abdomen that lead straight from his hips to his crotch, had turned his mind into fucking a blur.

It kind of concerned him how aroused he was and without being overly conscious about what was happening his hand ended up rubbing his hardening cock through his pyjama bottoms. Michael uttered a soft noise of content and proceeded to push his pants and underwear down to his knees. His head sunk back into the pillow and his back arched off the bed as he took his dick in his hand. He pictured himself tracing long, hot lines with his tongue down from Gavin’s hip to crotch and back again. And how he would gasp and moan beneath his touch, squirming and pleading.  
Michael began to stroke himself a bit faster, whimpering a little as his pace quickened. His hand was calloused and rough and he couldn’t help but wonder how Gavin’s hand would feel around him. He pumped his fist around his cock and looked back to the image on his phone, thrusting upwards at the mere sight of it. He couldn’t help himself as he looked at Gavin’s crotch and imagine mouthing at his dick through the underwear. He let out a breathy moan and quickened his pace again, throwing the phone down next to him. He felt the heat rising in his stomach, and his breathing became more rapid. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and he felt the muscles in his thighs begin to tense. He began to twist his hand very slightly with each stroke and worked himself exactly how he liked it. With a couple of moan inducing strokes he felt himself getting close to orgasm. His toes curled, he held his breath, his hips jerked off the bed and with one final exclamation of “fuck” he came, spilling onto himself.

After quickly cleaning up and roughly pulling up his pants he threw his phone onto the bedside table and passed out before he could comprehend what had happened.

\--

In the morning, Michael was too exhausted to even think about being embarrassed by the previous night’s activities. Instead he decided to shoot Gav a quick text.

Michael: (11:42am)  
Nice photo-shoot ;)

He hit send before sluggishly making his way into the kitchen. He poured himself a large glass of water and checked his phone again to find a message from Gavin to which he replied quickly.

Gavin: (11:45am)  
Well, you know…I try.

Michael: (11:47am)  
I guess it pays off.

His phone buzzed in his hand almost immediately. Making his way into the lounge he placed the glass on the coffee table with a soft thud and sunk low into the sofa. He hit the on button on the remote, the TV clunking and humming to life, while checking the new message.

Gavin: (11:48am)  
Are you coming on to me?

Michael laughed, albeit nervous and tapped out a reply.

Michael: (11:51am)  
Don’t push your luck, Gavino.

He awaited the reply that came a moment later.

Gavin: (11:52am)  
I think you were, my little Michael.

He shook his head and replied before locking his phone and throwing it down next to him. He immersed himself in the shitty daytime television that played in front of him and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Michael: (11:55am)  
In your dreams.

\--

Later on, after what felt like endless hours of soap operas, cooking shows and reality T.V. Michael pulled himself lazily off the couch and with a groan made his way to the bathroom. 

The sun had set and the gentle glow of the moon and a dim street lamp peered through his window. Michael ran his hand along the wall, blindly searching for the light switch. He flipped it, illuminating the room with a harsh white light. He turned the shower water on hot and began pulling his shirt from his body. His clothes were left, forgotten on the floor.  
He carefully removed his glasses and placed them next to the sink, avoiding his own reflection in the mirror. He cautiously stepped into the glass cubicle and gasped as the water poured over him, turning his skin a bright red with every individual droplet.

Michael allowed himself a moment whilst in the shower to be embarrassed by his own actions. He let the scalding water burn into his scalp, most likely hoping that it would cause some freak incident of brain damage. Gavin was his best friend and yet…  
But it was harmless. If Gav ever found out he would probably take it as a compliment, right? Fuck, he didn’t know and it was beginning to drive him mad. Fucking feelings. God fucking damn it Gavin Free. There was a lump in his throat he couldn’t swallow down. His eyes stung, his heart beat faster, his breath became rapid and then it all stopped. He was numb.

He pressed his back against the cool tiles which burnt him in an entirely new way. He slid down the wall, his knees buckling and sat defeated on the shower floor. Droplets of water fell from his curls and into his eyes. And perhaps he was crying, no one would ever know.

 --

When he finally emerged from the bathroom his phone lay alight on his bed.

Gavin: (7:15pm)  
Was it actually good?

Michael: (7:31pm)  
What?

Gavin: (7:32pm)  
The photo-shoot.

Michael swallowed hard, unsure just how exactly to reply. His thumbs hovered over the screen for some time before typing.

Michael: (7:34pm)  
Yeah.

Gavin: (7:35pm)  
I was really nervous about it.  
(7:36pm)  
Which is why I was being a right nob all week.

Michael smiled to himself. He shoved the feelings of the night prior down, deep within, and playfully replied.

Michael: (7:37pm)  
You? Nervous about people seeing you half naked? Oh please.

Gavin: (7:38pm)  
Yeah, but this was serious.

Michael: (7:39pm)  
And you looked great.

–

Michael pulled up into his usual parking spot on Monday morning. He felt confident as he switched off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. He got out of his car, slammed the door shut and then clicked the lock on his keys.  
He wasn’t going to let his feelings get the better of him. He wasn’t going to think about Gavin’s photo-shoot. He was going to go about his life as he always did. There was nothing that was going to get into his way, there was nothing that could get in his way; or so he thought until he reached the Achievement Hunter office and bumped straight into Gavin in the doorway. Quite literally bumped. 

Their hands brushed past each other just as they stumbled a couple of steps away from each other. Michael’s stomach dropped and his heart beat faster in his chest.  
“Oh, good morning my little Michael,” Gav said with a giggle, flashing him a bright smile and continuing on his way out of the office and wandering down the hallway.  
Michael stood aghast in the doorway unsure of exactly how to move forward from the encounter. Gavin looked happier than Michael had seen him in months; he was his usual bubbly, idiotic self.  

Hesitantly, Michael made his way over to his desk.  
“Good morning,” Ray cheered pleasantly at Michael, accentuating the ‘oo’ sound.  
Michael, like a small puppy or a deer in the headlights, looked over at the other lad. “Hm?” He made a startled sound. Ray looked at Michael expectantly. “Oh, good morning,” he murmured.  
Ray raised one eyebrow and wheeled his chair a couple of inches closer to Michael’s. “You alright?” He asked him with a concerned tone; his eyes warm.  
Michael nodded, still slightly dazed. “Oh I’m fine,” he told Ray less than reassuringly. The Hispanic man furrowed his eyebrows but nodded, turning back to his desk. “If you say so,” he mumbled leaving Michael alone to his thoughts.

Geoff, who was sitting silently at his desk, headphones on with nothing playing through them witnessed the encounter.  
From the moment Michael walked through the door he was suspicious. And he was going to find out what was going on.

\--

The day had progressed and Michael had definitely not become any less confused. In fact, things had come to be quite a bit worse. With Let’s Play recording to be done, the six Achievement Hunter men found themselves loading Minecraft each with their respective drinks sitting on their desks. Michael accepted his game invite and spawned into his house in Achievement City. Before he had even moved his character, he saw a creeper standing at the door of his house. He let out a squawk before the creeper opened the door and walked in.  
“Gavin, you scared the shit out of me,” Michael cussed, swinging his real arm to the left in an attempt to hit the Brit.  
“I’m sorry Mikey Wikey, I just came to see my lovely little boy,” he cooed making his character walk closer to Michael’s. “You look very lovely today,” he giggled before running out of Michael’s Minecraft house.  
“O-okay,” Michael stuttered, walking forward and out of the wooden structure after Gavin.

After some ‘serious’ game play Michael had found himself once again lost in one of the many pixelated forests of Achievement City.  
After a moment of wandering this way and that, Gavin made one of his high pitched squeals, “Michael, I found you,” he shouted. Michael turned his camera view around until he found Gavin behind him in a tree.  
The two of them began to walk together after a few cheers of “Team Nice Dynamite” and a promise not to kill each other. 

Unfortunately, that was when Geoff decided things had been quiet for too long.  
“So Gav, Calvin Klein, hey?” He asked, cheekily. Of course this sparked a wave of cheers and insults. Ray made one of his classic noises and made a crude ‘jerking-off’ motion with his right hand, left still holding onto his controller. The men all laughed and Jack explained into his microphone what they had all just witnessed. Michael felt the heat rising on his face, the tips of his ears turning bright red.  
Geoff, after his giggling had settled, asked, “I take it that you enjoyed it, Ray?”  
Ray nodded, clicking at his controller, “oh yeah, I loved that eye candy.” Through the chorus of laughter Gav managed to giggle out a “so did Michael.” The older man wanted to grab the words from the air and shove them back into Gavin’s big, stupid motherfucking mouth and duct tape his lips together. What the fuck did he think he was playing at?  
“Oh did he?” Geoff asked curiously, twisting his neck to look at Michael sitting at his desk behind Geoff’s. Michael attempted to hide his face in his shoulders and shrunk low in his chair.  
“What makes you say that?” Michael managed to sputter, not nearly half as confident as he had intended it to sound.  
Gavin had begun to thrust his pixelated self against Michael’s, the latter far too lost in his thoughts to do anything about it. “You said I looked great,” he uttered, pressing in the right stick over and over again, “and I have the texts to prove it.” Gavin finished his statement with a smug smile and then proceeded to poke his tongue out at Michael. Childish. That’s what he was being. A child.  
The decidedly more mature of the two of them ignored the catcalling from around the room (mainly from the young Narvaez Jr.). Michael figured he could pass this all off jokingly. “Hey,” he argued defensively, “I can appreciate a sexy Brit when I see one.” He finished the statement with a laugh that he hoped to God didn’t come off as nervous as he was.

He was nervous not because of the fact that yes, he did think Gavin was attractive but more due to the embarrassment of his actions following first seeing the image. Was it obvious just how fucking hot he had thought it was? Shit.

The topic was dropped after that but Michael had noticed Geoff glancing suspiciously at him every so often. Fucking motherfucking shit.

\--

Things started to get progressively worse as the days went on.

As the sunlight filled his room on Tuesday morning, Michael folded in on himself. Wincing, phone in hand, realising that once again every single one of his @ mentions lead to a uniform link along with Gavin’s twitter handle. It was almost deja vu. But this couldn’t be another modelling shot. Gavin had mentioned in passing that they were only releasing one photo from the Calvin Klein shoot… unless it was for something else.

He decided to go directly to the source of the madness.

Michael: (7:15am)  
What did you do this time? I’m too afraid to look.

Almost immediately his phone buzzed within his grip.

Gavin: (7:16am)  
Check my last tweet.

Without replying to the Brit, Michael begrudgingly switched back to the Twitter app and tapped on the link to Gavin’s profile. His last tweet read:

@GavinFree 17 September  
Thanks boi @AH_Michael ;) #Mavin #TeamNiceD http://tinypic.com/r/mvqnty/5

Michael cursed aloud into his empty apartment. “Mother fucker,” he yelled with total disregard for his neighbours. As he clicked the link and the picture appeared, Michael realised exactly what the fucker had posted. There, on the internet for all to see, lay the text messages Michael had sent Gavin the morning after the photo was released. The asshole had posted it to Twitter for God’s sake. His hash tags most certainly did not improve the situation either.  
For the love of God, Michael swore he was going to kill that man (no matter what feelings he could possibly, might almost certainly have for him).  
Michael knew he would never hear the end of this - especially not with the Let’s Play coming out on Friday. Fucking cock sucking piece of shit.

Michael was fuming and by the time he had arrived at the office he was sure he had turned an intriguing hue of red.  
“What the fuck, Gavin?” Michael inquired the moment his eyes lay sight on the British man.  
“Hello, boy,” Gavin greeted cheerfully, bright smile plastered on his face. A cheeky twinkle in his eye. Michael wouldn’t let that smile get to him (no matter how damn adorable it was).  
“How fucking dare you pretend like there’s fucking nothing wrong,” he shouted. He was beginning to attract stares from those within the vicinity. Most of whom were already aware of the situation.  
Gavin tilted his head innocently, smile unwavering, “I have no bloody idea what you are talking about, Michael.” He gave a slight shrug and walked away from the man questioning him. Michael was having none of that.  
“Don’t you walk away from me, Gavin Free.” Gavin stopped in his tracks. “Quit acting like a child,” Michael continued his voice even louder than before.  
Gavin whipped around to face Michael. He gestured to the space around them, “you’re the one who is causing a scene."  
Michael looked around to the people who had been watching. Emphasis on had as they all suddenly became very intrigued with any and every ceiling, floor or other structural element directly near them. Michael huffed as Gavin continued to smile knowingly. He won this time, there was no denying. But Michael wouldn't just let this go. He walked toward Gavin, stopping right in front of him. "You better watch your fucking back," he murmured only half-jokingly before brushing past Gavin, knocking his shoulder roughly as he did so.

\-- 

Wednesday found Ray borrowing Michael’s phone to film him and Gavin dicking around in the parking lot and instead finding the Calvin Klein advert saved in his camera roll. A very embarrassed Michael stammered out some pathetic excuse about sending it to Andrew and Dylon while the very amused Gavin and Ray doubled over in fits of laughter.

Thursday hadn’t been much better with everyone now on his back in relation to the texts. Geoff especially had been giving Michael peculiar looks since Monday. It was getting on Michael’s nerves. He couldn’t take this much longer.  
Not only was he trying to sort his own feelings out but with the added pressure of not only everyone in the company but also the fans it was becoming almost impossible to figure things out.  
On more than one occasion someone had questioned the situation at hand.  
Kerry offered a “I thought you would like it,” while Burnie gave a gentle nudge in the ribs accompanied by a wink.

\--

When Friday finally arrived Michael was calm with the promise of a late night party in the annex hanging in the air. He was certain that after the week he had had whatever higher power was out there would be kind to him just for one measly day. He had assumed incorrectly, of course.  
By the time midday had rolled around Michael had found himself locked in the bathroom. His face blushing a deep red, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest and his breath caught in his throat. All morning Gavin had been flirting and flaunting himself in Michael’s face. Michael knew he was doing it on purpose as well.

It had begun with just little things like Gavin moving his chair closer to Michael’s when he first arrived at work or ‘accidentally’ bumping their legs together or brushing hands when reaching for microphones. The asshole then had the audacity to start ‘accidentally’ dropping things and bending over to pick them up right in Michael’s line of sight. And the older man could have sworn he had never seen Gavin wear such tight pants. ‘Was the fucking health risk really worth it, Gav?’

But the Brit hadn’t stopped there, oh no. The Lads had decided to have an early lunch after filming some Things To Do footage in Red Dead Redemption. The three men found themselves sitting around the table in the office kitchen, eating their lunches with a comfortable chatter falling between them. Michael was relieved that Gavin hadn’t tried to do anything remotely stupid for a good hour or so (although he may have tensed up a little as Gavin took the seat beside him) and ate his food contently.  
Although, Gavin, the asshole that he is, saw the opportunity as Ray stood to get a drink, his back turned to them, to lean over to Michael, lips brushing against his ear. “Do you like what you see?” He whispered lowly so that Ray couldn’t possibly hear. He made sure the message came across with a smug smile and a wink. Michael swallowed hard, eyes wide; he glanced at Ray to see if he had noticed the goings on behind him. However, the youngest of the three Lads remained oblivious, humming some tune to himself as he poured soda into a coffee mug. Gavin seemed to do the same, making sure their company was not intruding upon his scheme, before turning back to Michael once more before pressing his lips in a quick kiss to his cheek and then one to his neck.  
Scraping his chair across the floor as he stood, Michael pushed his plate of food away from him across the table and strode as fast as his weak legs could take him to the bathroom to hide.  
Gavin, left alone with Ray, simply smiled as Ray uttered a confused “what the fuck was that?”

\--

After successfully avoiding any further encounters with Gavin throughout the day (which really meant just making sure they were never alone together) Michael was glad to get some alcohol into his system. 

The party in the annex was in full swing; music blaring, drinks in hand and awkward dancing ensuing. Miles and Kerry had set up a table where they were mixing drinks (mostly concoctions Michael had never even heard of), Gus was yelling at Chris who had Joe the cat balancing atop his head while a very tipsy Burnie giggled from his spot on the floor. Michael had been wedged in a huddle of people. Barbara, Kara, Brandon, Jordan and, of course, Gavin stood around him all shuffling and bobbing along to the stupid pop song that was echoing throughout the building. His vision slightly blurred, mind working a tad slower than usual and his ears ringing, Michael swung his hips from side to side clumsily, bobbing his head up and down unintentionally to the off-beat.  
He spun around, very nearly tripping over his own feet, finding himself face to face with Gavin. “My boy,” the Brit squawked, flailing his limbs about, quite possibly injuring someone in the process. His wild hands eventually found their way to Michael’s hips and with a raised eyebrow embellishing his actions, Gavin shuffled closer. Amidst the dancing and drinking, no one else had seemed to notice the two men. Michael continued to swing his hips around until the next song began to play. The music blared in his ears and Michael couldn’t possibly care less about where they were as he began to roll his hips against Gavin’s. The two of them giggled as the slightly nostalgic Adam Lambert song played on. Gav’s hands began to wander as the people around them continued to dance. Michael smiled as the Brit’s hands found his ass however his breath caught as one hand snaked back around in between the two men and grabbed at his crotch. Gavin winked, and wiggled his head from side to side as he mouth “oh sweetheart” along with the lyrics to the song.  
He quickly grabbed Michael’s hand and dragged him through the throng of people and outside into the dark, cold night.

Gavin hastily pushed him against the hard wall just outside the door. He pressed himself right up against Michael. The older man’s heart raced as Gavin leaned closer to him. He could feel the heat radiating between them, the cold night air barely impacting either of them. He could feel Gavin’s warm breath ghosting over his lips, making them tingle and his toes curl in his shoes. His gaze flicked from Gavin’s lips to his eyes; warm, pupils blown and full of a look that Michael couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was like the feeling was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn’t grasp it.  
The following moments seemed to happen so quickly and yet they seemed to last a lifetime. Before Michael had the chance to ask anything of Gavin, the younger man’s lips were on his, Gav’s hands on his waist. Michael’s hands found themselves tangled in the Brit’s hair pulling lightly.  
Their lips moved together for a moment before Gavin’s tongue traced over Michael’s lower lip.  
He deepened the kiss, very slightly and softly moaning into it. It was a sound of relief; as if he had been waiting for this moment.  
Michael took Gavin’s bottom lip between his teeth pulling gently before returning to the kiss. All of the feelings the two men had been denying were said in the kiss. It was slow and meaningful but also full of passion. Their thoughts and feelings didn’t need to be said, only felt. The two of them pulled away gasping at each other’s mouths.  
As Michael panted lightly, filling his lungs with the icy air around them, Gav leaned in to whisper against Michael’s ear for the second time that day. “You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that.” His voice was rough and low and made Michael shiver against him. But Gavin stepped backwards, leaving Michael craving his warm touch.  
The younger man ran a hand through his hair before making his way back through the door and into the building once more. Gavin pushed his way back through the crowd of employees and friends to the dancing group he had abandoned previously.

Michael waited outside to regain his composure, taking in what had just happened. The details were misty but the main point rang true.  
Gavin Free had kissed him.

He hesitantly opened the door and stumbled back inside. He received a beckoning wave from Kerry but couldn’t help but glance over to where Gavin was dancing with Barbara. He tore his gaze away and headed over to the drinks table to join Miles and Kerry with their newly recruited members Chris and Ray (who looked very much out of his element). Michael was in a daze and while the others simply waved it off as the alcohol he knew it was from a very different kind of intoxication.

\--

Some time passed before Geoff left Griffon talking with Gus and Esther and made his way into the groups of people in the middle of the room. He roughly grabbed Gavin by the arm and pulled him away from the people he was terribly dancing with. With a determined look on his face, Geoff continued to pull the squirming git from the annex, into the cold night air and over to the main building. With much complaining from the Brit, Geoff opened the door quickly shoving him inside and down the hallway. They stood in the dark and quiet Rooster Teeth kitchen and Geoff began in a hushed tone. “What the fuck is going on with you?”  
Gavin, quite a lot more ‘beved up’ then he had been previously, poked the older man in the chest, “what is going on with you?” He slurred.  
Geoff smacked Gavin’s hand away and gripped at his wrist. “I’ve seen you this week Gavin. What the fuck is going on with you and Michael?” He didn’t mean to interrogate Gavin quite so harshly but he needed to know what the fuck was happening. He felt like he was in the dark. There couldn’t be secrets in their office; in their family. It was only bound to cause trouble.  
Gavin giggled, “I don’t know what you mean Geoffrey.”  
Geoff accentuated each syllable hoping to get through to the incredibly small brain of the drunken man standing before him, “do you like Michael?”

\--

Michael shuffled his feet across the concrete as he made his way over to the main building. He didn’t want to go get the milk from the fridge but he had drawn the metaphorical short straw and Kerry wouldn’t let him get out of this one. As he stumbled through the dark he made his way through the hallway towards the kitchen when he heard hushed voices becoming louder. He knew exactly who it was. He peered around the corner to see Geoff backed up against the pantry and Gavin’s palms against his chest.  
“What the fuck kind of a question is that?” Gavin’s voice came echoing. “Of course I don’t like Michael.”

Those six words made Michael’s world stop, his heart shattered and he unintentionally gasped. The high he had been riding burst.  
Gavin turned towards where Michael had been standing but Michael was already making his way out of the door and into the parking lot.  
“Michael.”

\--

Michael heard light footsteps tapping against the concrete behind him, "Michael, wait." Gavin's voice came from where the footsteps now stilled. The tone of desperation coloured his speech. "I didn't mean to say that."  
Michael turned around, threatening tears stinging in his eyes; the situation incredibly sobering. "Oh I bet you fucking didn't," he spat sarcastically. "I heard exactly what you said. Motherfucking Christ Gavin. You're so fucking infuriating." He went to walk towards the Brit before stopping himself and laughing out a harsh breath. "I thought I could trust you."  
Gavin took a step towards Michael who, in turn, stepped backwards. Gav fiddled with the hem of his shirt and looked down at his shoes. He knew he couldn't fix this. "Michael, please," he whispered helplessly and hopelessly into the night air. "I didn't really mean that, I was being a right twat... I just didn’t- I'm so sorry." His voice was barely audible against the harsh wind that whistled past his ears. Michael didn't move, didn't speak and most certainly did not look Gavin in the eye. "Please, Michael... you're my boy," he pleaded desperately.  
"I don't even fucking know who you are any more," Michael choked out, regret filling his entire being. His fists were clenched and his limbs trembled with anger. “I thought that-” he pointed back over to outside the annex where they had stood not long ago. “I thought that meant something, Gavin.” He paused for a long moment. “I guess you really don’t have a heart.” Then he left, leaving Gavin cold and alone in the parking lot.

Gavin slumped down on the cold pavement and cried. He let the tears stream freely from his eyes and down across his cheeks. The air from his lungs was stolen from him in uneven sobs. The cold air burnt as he desperately filled them again with shallow, painful breaths.

\--

The night had been rough to Michael and when he awoke he was cold and his eyes stung. He rubbed his red and puffy tired eyes. He shoved his glasses on and rolled out of bed to get ready for the day. He figured the only way he would be able to get his mind off all the shit going on was to go to his art class as per usual.

Incredibly hung over and upset Michael arrived at the industrial building in which the art studio was located with five minutes to spare. He quickly fumbled with his keys, slung his bag over one shoulder and hopped out of the car. He locked it with a single click as he headed towards the tin building. After slipping through a narrow door and down a quiet hallway he quickly and carefully made his way into the vibrant studio and into his corner.

From his old blue backpack he withdrew a large black pencil case filled with his art supplies. The case was worn out with use and was fraying at the edges.  
He lay out a few items on the bench in front of him including art block paper and his phone. He carefully plugged his earphones into the jack with a metallic click and opened up his music. He hit shuffle on his ‘art’ playlist and roughly shoved the bud in his right ear with haste.  
Michael let the music wash over him, letting it rinse off the anger. Today was his time; for himself and himself alone.

As Hurricane Drunk buzzed in his ear he took in his surroundings. He saw a few familiar faces (including Felicity who sat towards the front of the room with an older lady).  
Groups of people were chatting away creating a comfortable buzz within the room. However when Angus came to stand at the front a hushed silence fell across the room. The people waited intently and Michael clicked the volume down to a whisper on his phone.  
“To those of you who are new; welcome. And to those of you who keep coming back; bugger off.”  
Michael guiltily laughed at Angus’ opening. Although he heard the same one every week he still had a soft spot for the elderly gentleman somewhere deep down in his decidedly shitty heart.  
“Let’s not piss fuck around,” the man continued before excusing his language to the newcomers. He took a seat behind the workbench at the front of the room. He kicked his feet up on another chair and opened the draw with a loud rattle. Picking a pencil out of the draw he continued with his instructions. “You may use which ever medium you prefer. I want you to pick one that you love.” He took the pencil and tucked it behind his ear. “Now this task is not an easy one. Perhaps one of the most advanced, complex and intriguing subjects in our world…” He paused, most likely for dramatic effect, Michael thought smugly. “The human body.”  
An audible groan escaped the crowd and the chatter began once more. Michael scowled as his phone continued to filter through his playlist. It wasn’t that he disliked drawing people but it was so difficult and with a time constraint he would never reach a level he was happy with.  
“Alright now, quiet you lot,” Angus growled, standing once more. He leant himself over his desk, arms locked to support him. “I know it’s tricky and not always the most fun but I thought I would make it a little bit interesting for you all.”  
Intrigued, Michael adjusted himself in his seat and subconsciously leaned forward in anticipation.  
“Today we have a live model. Out of respect for him I must mention beforehand that he will be butt ass naked. If you will not be comfortable with that I ask that you please leave now.”  
Michael gave the room a once over noticing everyone still sitting firmly in place. He was secretly impressed with the crowd and extremely bewildered with the effort Angus had gone to.  
Angus started up again after he was sure everyone had made a firm decision. “Alright, so we only have him for two hours so I want to see the best work you can possibly churn out in that time.” A few people around the room nodded softly. “So if I can ask our model to come out…?” Michael reached into his backpack and withdrew a bottle of water, placing it on his bench. He then unzipped his pencil case, rummaging around for charcoal. In his peripheral vision he could just barely see a man covered lightly by a white robe. Michael lay his charcoal down, wiping the dust on his jeans before grabbing a pencil and flipping to a clean page in his art book and tearing it out.

“Would you mind introducing yourself, boy?” Angus instructed.  
“Erm…” The voice began. Michael’s head instantly shot up. He recognised that voice. How could he not with it shrieking in his ear at least five days a week? “I’m Gavin.”  
Michael felt his heart leap to his throat, his chest constricting. He felt his face completely drain of colour and his eyes were large as they met Gavin’s. His ears burned red hot and his breath quickened.  
Gavin froze where he stood. His cheeks flushed a brilliant shade of red and he appeared to have stopped breathing.  
“Would you prefer to sit or stand?” Angus asked the now preoccupied Gavin.  
“I…” Gavin stuttered, “I don’t, um, really mind, uh…” He choked out, eyes never leaving Michael’s.  
Michael mouthed at Gavin. ‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ Gavin raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes in response, clearly indicating he wished to direct the same question to Michael.  
“How about you just de-robe then we’ll sort something out?” Angus prompted, oblivious to the situation unfolding in front of him, only slightly concerned by Gavin’s stammering behaviour.  
“Well, yeah, I guess I’ll just, um, pop this off then,” Gav muttered, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He swallowed hard and with trembling hands unknotted the tie. His gaze faltered from Michael’s for the first time as he slid the robe off of his shoulders and slung it over the chair next to him.

The room remained quiet and Michael’s breath caught in his throat. A multitude of things ran through his mind but one that, for some bizarre reason, stood out above the rest; Gavin had waxed. His eyes were no longer greeted by the ‘welcome mat’ of chest hair. The only hair that remained was a thin trail that led down from his belly button to… oh my.  
Fuck.

\--

Michael had definitely seen Gavin naked once before. However, his memories were heavily doused in an assortment of alcoholic beverages. Nonetheless he relied on Ray’s recollections of the night as well as an array of pictures and videos found on his phone the next day.  
It all started when the Ramsey’s had invited everyone over for drinks on a Friday night. Millie had been offloaded to a babysitter and Griffon had bought the strongest liquor she knew of. On top of that, everyone seemed to have brought their own drinks as well. After a few long hours of casual drinking that turned to multiple rounds of shots that lead to an intense game of beer pong everyone gathered together and several college drinking games proceeded. It was at that point Michael had to rely on Ray (and his phone) for information.

At some point the lads had found themselves in Gavin’s bedroom. Ray himself, the only sober one of the trio, had no idea how they ended up in there. According to him, he had sat himself down on the bed where Michael climbed on to join him. Gavin, slouched against his closed door, was giggling manically and Ray was beginning to grow tired. Quite innocently, he had told Gavin to entertain him. Much to his horror and disbelief, Gavin had begun to unbutton his shirt slowly and messily. He was struggling but Ray knew where this was going.  
“Gav, stop that.” He said, getting off the bed and pulling Gavin’s hands away from the buttons. Gavin proceeded to push him back down onto the bed, nearly crushing Michael who yelped at the contact. “Fuck you,” Ray growled, sitting up and pushing himself off Michael.  
Gavin finished unbuttoning the last button on his shirt and slid it off his shoulders, swinging it around in the air before throwing it in Ray’s face. “If you’re lucky,” he giggled.  
“What about me, Gavin?” Michael questioned drunkenly, eyes and smile wide. The two of them laughed as Gavin started to undo his belt. He attempted to pull the belt from the keepers in one swift motion and hit himself lightly in the face. Ray laughed at him. “Dumb idiot.”

However, Gavin hadn’t stopped there. Ray had turned to make sure Michael hadn’t passed out face-down into a pillow and when he turned back Gavin was parading around in only his underwear. After some brief shouting and shoving Ray had left the room, his last memory of the two of them as the door shut embedded in his mind; Michael lounging back on the bed and Gavin, kneeling at the end of the bed, pulling off his remaining clothing.

\--

But the sight in front of him now was… wow. Michael felt a blush creep onto his cheeks. He was glad Gavin kept his gaze averted; eyes resting on his feet instead of the crowd in front.  
Angus, who had not even bat an eyelash, spoke out. “Class, begin. If you need help give us a yell and I’ll come around as fast as these legs can take me.” He gave out a soft, bark of a laugh.

It had been two years since Michael had started taking art classes when it happened.  
He finally came across someone he knew at an art class.

 --

It was about a half an hour into the class and Michael was in his own personal circle of hell. He had completed the basic outline of Gavin who was sitting on the arm of the old, black leather sofa that was angled so that the full front of his body faced directly towards the class; towards Michael. He had pencilled his angular and lanky bone structure and finished his basic facial features. He had lightly drawn in his pectoral muscles and stomach and as he began on the hips he looked back up to Gavin and made changes where necessary. He glanced up once more to check that the angle of his hips was correct and made accidental eye contact with Gav.  
The two of them both blushed red and looked away hastily. Michael peered up cautiously through his eyelashes trying to sneak a look to see if Gavin was looking back towards him. He realised Gavin had noticed and with a deep breath and an attempt to swallow down the lump in his throat Michael raised his head, eyes dancing over Gavin’s body again and his hand moved lightly over the paper once more. 

It was about two minutes before Angus made his way over to Michael’s desk but to the man it seemed like an eternity.  
“How is it going, Michael?” The elderly gentleman asked, glancing down at his work and observing.  
Michael nodded and shifted uncomfortably in his seat, desperately trying to conceal the tightening in his jeans. “Ah, yeah I guess things are going alright,” he replied politely, brushing little pieces of rubber from his eraser off the edges of his paper.  
Angus smiled and began to walk around Michael’s desk to evaluate the next person while casually mentioning that Michael was working “surprisingly slowly today.” Michael cursed internally knowing there was no way he was going to be able to finish his work exactly how he would want to within the time constraint.

Just as Angus had made it to the next person over, a new figure hovered by Michael. Felicity, hair as prominent as ever, was leaning over Michael’s bench. She smiled at him before leaning closer and whispering a quick, “I really don’t mean to be nosy but isn’t that your… friend.” She chose the last word carefully, giving Michael a knowing glance as she leant back away from him.  
Michael nodded silently. He wasn’t sure he could trust himself to speak. “I understand what you see in him,” she all but giggled before turning on her heel and flouncing away. She had a way with exits, that girl.

But Michael, finally giving up on his pencil work, picked up a shortened and well-used piece of charcoal and set to work. He let Felicity’s words wash over him again. Yes, Gavin was his… friend. And perhaps they weren’t on speaking terms but perhaps this is what they needed; a legitimate reason to be forced together for two hours. And although they were unable to speak to each other they sure had time to think.  
Talking could happen later.

Michael had definitely said some things that he hadn’t meant. He felt like an asshole but what he had heard Gavin say had… well it had broken his heart.  
“Of course I don’t like Michael.”  
Yet there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something that Gavin had said when they began yelling in the parking lot; something that just didn’t click at the time.  
"I didn't really mean that, I was being a right twat... I just didn’t-”  
He just didn’t what?  
The thought berated Michael as his hand moved across the paper drawing and layering lines. He glanced back at Gavin who in turn was looking at him. Neither of them turned away this time and Michael noticed the look in Gavin’s eyes. The same look he had given him right before he had kissed him. Michael wasn’t one to read into things too much but he had all the time in the world to think. 

Michael finished drawing Gavin’s shadowed face and began on his hair drawing quick, careful lines flicking upwards. He was careful to add all of the lowlights and highlights.  
Michael knew Gavin had had quite a bit to drink the night before. Otherwise he would have never been able to kiss him so confidently.  
He wouldn’t be surprised if Gav had been drinking throughout the day to aid him in his flirting and flaunting as well. Gavin could barely buy a girl a drink without having had at least one bev for himself beforehand. And Michael had seen him drinking again with Barbara after they had gone back inside.  
So, maybe the alcohol had come through in his argument with Geoff?

Or maybe the problem was Geoff?  
Holy shit that was it.  
Gavin hadn’t wanted to admit it to Geoff. It made sense now.  
“I just didn’t-”  
He had wanted to say it but he knew Michael wouldn’t have believed him in the heat of the moment.  
God, he felt so fucking stupid.  
He cocked it all up over something so small. He was a fucking asshole to Gavin. He didn’t mean it. None of it.  
“I guess you really don’t have a heart.”  
Above almost all things Michael knew Gav had a heart.  
He knew because he made Michael feel as if he finally had one. He knew because of the looks they shared. Because of the laughs they had had. Because of that kiss.  
The look in Gavin’s eyes then and the night before they said all of the things he wasn’t able to with words.

He wanted to tell Gavin there and then. He tried sending him a look but Gavin’s gaze had drifted to idly study the dull ceiling of the studio.  
It seemed as though there was nothing left to do but buckle down into the work and talk to him afterwards.

\--

With half an hour left on his work the figure on Michael’s page finally began to resemble the Gavin Free in front of him. All that was left to add was the finishing touches; the ornamentations if you will.  
He took that moment to be selfish. He allowed himself time to indulge in the pleasures that were Gavin Free.  
His toned abs, his shoulders, his calves, his thighs, his cock. Anything and everything he could place his eyes on. How desperately he wished to touch his skin, to kiss his lips.

Smudging the charcoal with his fingertips against the paper, Michael wondered how things would have gone if he hadn’t heard Geoff and Gavin’s conversation in the kitchen. Would Gavin have gone back to his normal self? Would he continue in his flirty flaunting ways? Would he have kissed Michael again?  There were so many questions circulating in his mind and not enough answers. All he did know was that they absolutely needed this to push them together. To force them to sort it out. The two of them weren’t normally the ones to talk about mushy feelings. The chances of the topic coming up naturally were fucking slim. Pressure was probably the easiest and only way for it to happen. Perhaps that had been Geoff’s plan all along.  
Michael figured Geoff had just wanted there to be no tension in the office. And he could understand that. A group so close and in an environment so small there was no room for secrets. It caused too many problems.  
Such as the time Ray had kept family issues to himself and one unfortunately poorly timed comment from Gavin had sent him over the edge. After the hours of yelling and threatening tears the six men found themselves on the carpeted floor of the Achievement Hunter office talking things out.

Gavin’s secret profession had been the biggest secret kept since that incident.  
It was most likely the reason why Geoff had noticed the change of air between Gavin and Michael. He had been watching out for the tell-tale signs of other secrets. Secrets that they could not keep to themselves. Geoff knew Gavin well enough to know something was off. He was family after all. 

Time had escaped Michael and Angus huskily called out that there was only five minutes left. He sat back to observe his work. It surprised him in the best way possible. A smile snaked its way onto his face, tugging at the corners of his mouth. There in front of him was the Gavin he knew and… admittedly, loved. He quickly picked up his charcoal once more writing carefully in the bottom left hand corner of the page. He placed the piece of charcoal back in its place and zipped up his pencil case. He carefully rolled the page into a tight cylinder, careful not to crush, crease or bend it and rolled an elastic bag off of his wrist and onto the tube.

He gave himself a moment to compose himself, beginning to place all of things together and listening to those around him doing the same. As Angus ended the class and people began to leave Michael continued to sit in his place.

With his belongings all packed away and sitting in a neat pile on his workbench, Michael watched as Angus talked to Gavin. The young man was no longer naked. However he only sported a pair of Calvin Klein briefs and was shrugging on a light blue button up. As the two of them chatted away Michael studied Gavin. Even after the hours of observing and drawing he was still admiring the man in front of him. Everything about him; from the rise and fall of his chest to the way his eyelashes brushed against his cheeks as he blinked to the way his slender fingers moved to button his shirt. He was truly a sight to see and Michael couldn’t believe he had ever wasted a moment not seeing the man before him. Not noticing the perfect imperfections. And above all, he could not believe that he had ever spent a moment of his life not loving Gavin Free.

Shovelling the pile of things from his workbench and into his bag, he considered how lucky he would have to be for Gavin to forgive him.  
Taking a deep breath and mustering up all the courage he had, he swung the backpack over his shoulder and made his way over to the two men. Upon his approach both Gavin and Angus turned toward him, their conversation evaporating quickly.  
“Michael,” Angus cheered, clapping him on the back a little harder than absolutely necessary. “How did you go?” He asked.  
“Uh, pretty well. I’m happy with it.” Michael answered, shifting his weight from foot to foot.  
“Wonderful,” the elderly man exclaimed. “I trust that Gavin here was a great subject.” He motioned his hands towards Gavin who had remained silent.  
“Well of course,” Michael laughed nervously. “He always is.”  
Angus seemed taken aback. “You two have met before?” He asked curiously, gesturing with a casual hand between the two men.  
A harsh moment passed. “You could say that,” Gavin murmured lowly, finally breaking his silence.  
Angus’ eyes flicked between them nervously; the hostility in Gavin’s reply clearly startling him. He glanced at his wrist pretending to read the ticking hands on his watch. “Oh Lord, is that the time?” he shouted into the now silent studio. “Best be off.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the door. “Michael, would you mind locking up for me? I have places to be, people to see and such.”  
Michael nodded, “yeah, of course. It wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll show Mr Free out as well.” His voice wavered at the name but his wide smile never faltered. “Have a good night, Angus. I’ll see you next week.”  
“You better,” the older man laughed. After leaving the keys on the desk, Angus headed for the door, muttering his thanks. He turned back towards them and gave a hasty wave before striding outside and letting the door slam behind him.

The echoing slam faded, leaving nothing but silence in the room. It hummed in their ear; a constant, ringing reminder of their predicament. The tension filled the room like a dense blanket of fog.  
They stood there, unmoving, for several moments. The both of them lost in their separate thoughts and how to say them aloud.  
Until they both burst out at once.  
“Look, give me a minute to explain myself,” Gavin began while Michael muttered out a “don’t say anything, I need to go first.”  
The situation would have been almost comical if their feelings, their friendship and whatever else they had weren’t on the line. The both of them fell silent once more. Only for a short while, but in that silence they stepped together and Michael took Gavin’s shaking hands in his. “You don’t need to say a word. You don’t have to explain yourself. I understand,” Michael whispered.  
Clearly those weren’t the words Gavin had wanted to hear for he tore his hands from Michael’s and pushed them against his chest. Michael staggered backwards, almost losing his footing. “What the fuck was that for?” He inquired, disgruntled. He took a step back towards Gavin angrily.  
“I spent all night locked in my room crying like a pubescent sixteen year old girl trying to leave you voice messages that I ended up cancelled before they went through. I stood there,” he gestured to the black arm chair right by them, “naked, for two whole hours thinking about you. About what I’d say to you once it was over and now I finally know what I want to say and you fucking tell me not to say anything because you ‘understand’? Well I don’t bloody understand, Michael.” He moved closer to Michael, eyes never leaving his. “Tell me. Tell me what you ‘understand’,” he pleaded desperately, his voice loud and rough.  
Michael remained silent. He waited as Gavin fumed, chest rising and falling heavily. After a short while Michael swung the backpack off of his shoulder. He rest it down on Angus’ table and unzipped it. He removed a cylindrical roll of paper. He handed it to Gavin without a word and left the backpack, forgotten on the table.  
Gavin took the paper into his hands and removed the elastic band from around it. He carefully unrolled it and took in the picture before him. It was Michael’s work from the day. Gavin stared back at himself from the paper. He looked over it with admiration. Michael’s work was spectacular. There was absolutely no denying. He took in the entire page and although the art was the main focus something peculiar caught his eye.

The bottom left hand corner of the page was signed in Michael’s careful writing. It read:  
I am sorry. Love, Michael.

Gavin looked back up at Michael, letting the paper roll back in on itself in his hands. The tears welled in his eyes and his shallow breath caught in the back of his throat. "Michael," he started, voice wavering. “I don’t know what to say,” he finished softly.  
Michael gave a quiet laugh. “I told you, don’t say anything.”  
Although Gavin couldn’t say anything he certainly knew what to do.

He placed the rolled up picture on the table leaving it forgotten with the backpack and keys. He stepped back to stand in front of Michael. Sweet Michael, whose eyes shone with hope, whose hair curled in delicate loops, whose lips he had kissed. And just as he had the previous night Gavin pressed his own lips to Michael’s. Softly and carefully, almost as if worried he might break or disappear right before him. Michael made a small surprised noise before relaxing into the kiss; just as he had done the last time. Gavin pulled back gently, keeping his face close to Michael’s, hands gripping at his waist.  
“You are a fucking asshole,” he whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, that cheeky twinkle in his eyes once more.  
Michael growled lowly, “says you.” Their lips locked again, in a deep kiss. Michael’s hands found their way to Gavin’s hips while the Brit’s fingers laced within his curls. 

With a low noise of content Michael suddenly pushed Gavin backwards over the closest workbench. The younger man squawked, surprised, separating himself from Michael’s lips. Their hips slammed together drawing a breathy groan from the Brit.  
Michael stood over him, hands gripping the light fabric over his chest. He pulled the shirt open, the buttons flinging in every direction and dancing across the floor. The shirt hung loosely around Gavin’s sides, revealing his toned chest and stomach that Michael had been appreciating for so long. He gripped at either side of the unbuttoned shirt, fisting the fabric and pulling Gavin towards him forcefully.  
With Gav sitting on the edge of the table, Michael rutted their cocks together through the tight fabric. Their lips slammed together and Michael kissed Gavin roughly, this time rid of romanticism filled only with need and lust.  
He quickly hooked his fingers in the thick waistband of Gavin’s underwear pulling them down to the middle of his thighs. Michael’s breath hitched as he took in the sight in front of him.  
He took a moment to appreciate how gorgeous Gavin was; everything about him. Michael gazed into those deep, inviting eyes and traced delicate circles on Gavin’s thighs with his charcoal covered fingertips. Gavin let out a sharp whine, pleading for his touch. Michael knelt down on the cold, hard floor in front of the bench. His hands found their way to Gav’s hips, where they gripped forcefully. Looking up through his eyelashes, Michael took a look at Gavin, their eyes meeting briefly. The younger man’s eyes were dark and begging, pupils dilated and eyelids heavy. He nodded once down at Michael who knelt between his legs, and breathed in deeply.

Michael, hands still gripping Gavin’s hips, carefully pressed his lips to Gavin’s inner thigh. He traced his tongue upwards before kissing along the underside of his cock. Gavin gave a small whimper making Michael smile against his dick. He swirled his tongue around the tip, gaining another small noise of encouragement from Gav. He licked his lips and began to take Gavin’s cock into his mouth, his tongue lying flat against the underside. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked, just the way he had seen many girls do it before. He took it into his mouth and then pulled back just as it became uncomfortable before bobbing his head back down. Gavin gave an echoing moan.  
“Michael,” he sighed into the empty studio. His voice was soft yet thick and coated in pleasure.  
With Michael’s fingernails roughly digging into the flesh on his hips and his lips wrapped tightly around his cock, Gavin’s hands scratched the table top, in need of something to grip on to. They snaked their way into Michael’s curls and tugged lightly causing Michael to moan unexpectedly around Gavin’s cock. He had to push down on Gav’s hips to stop them from bucking up at the vibrations. Michael pulled his mouth away and began to trail, open mouthed kisses up Gavin’s stomach and chest.

Giving a short, breathy noise in protest, Gavin pulled Michael’s hair roughly. “Michael,” he whined before being cut off harshly by Michael’s lips against his own once more. As their lips parted, Michael began nipping and sucking Gav’s neck, right where the shoulder met. “Michael…” Gavin breathed out once more, his arms snaking around Michael’s body.  
“What?” Michael groaned against Gavin’s neck, feigning irritation.  
“I-“ the Brit began, breath hitching before he could continue, “I lied, Michael.”  
Michael looked up, slightly shocked, “about what?” He questioned before returning to the reddening skin and sucking a large hickey.  
Gavin swallowed hard. “I didn’t need the extra money,” he panted out.  
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Michael groaned before kissing along his collar bones.  
“I’m talking about modelling,” he whined. “I was at the mall and there was some Italian fitty,” he took a deep breath in, “he was handing out flyers and I wanted to walk past but he grabbed my arm and I-“ he moaned abruptly as Michael nipped at his skin. “I shit you not he said ‘someone as gorgeous as yourself should not pass up this opportunity, beautiful.’ And that accent, Michael, that accent; it grabs you and then they,” his words began to falter as he stuttered, “they… they ah… compliment you and how could I say no?” He swallowed hard again. “But then I fell in love with the job. I got to be someone completely different and it was amazing. I didn’t need the money. They didn’t beg me to stay. I love being a model,” he panted out.  
Michael rolled his eyes. “Shut the fuck up,” he growled, sinking his head back down and his lips over Gavin’s dick once more; this time taking in more.

His back arched, hands gripping whatever they could and his hips jerking up into Michael’s throat, Gavin begged. “Oh god, Michael, please.” His begging caused Michael to moan around his cock once more. “Holy shit fuck I’m gonna-” Gavin whimpered as his orgasm hit him and he came into Michael’s mouth. Michael swallowed around Gavin’s dick before pulling away and resting back on his legs. 

Through his panting Gavin began to giggle, “Michael,” he paused, “you have come on your chin.”  
Michael wiped a hand over his mouth, his heart beating in his ears. “Gav, you have hand prints on your hips.” And sure enough Gavin sat there, hair ruffled, once again completely naked, sweating and two black hand prints on his hips left by the charcoal on Michael’s hands.

\--

“Why didn’t you tell me you were taking art classes, Michael,” Gavin murmured, his voice low and his head resting on Michael’s chest. The two of them were snuggled comfortably and quite naked beneath the sheets in Michael’s bed.  
“Really, Gav?” Michael laughed, “that’s your first question about all of this?” He pressed a light kiss to the top of Gavin’s head and scrunched up his nose as the hair tickled it. His hair smelt of strawberries, making Michael smile softly and close his eyes.  
Gavin waited patiently for Michael to answer his original question and when the older man realised this he sighed into Gavin’s hair. The breath tickled him and made Gav curl further into Michael.  
After a moment Michael began to tell him “My therapist basically told me to,” he summarised, no doubt raising more questions than answering. He awaited the bombardment of questions that was sure to follow with bated breath. He mentally prepared himself to give answers, his breath picking up and heart beating a little faster.

However the question that fell from Gavin’s lips took him by surprise. “Have you ever drawn me before, Michael?”  
Startled, he waited a moment before continuing. Michael nodded, arms curling tighter around the other man. “Yeah, I have.”  
Gavin was quiet for a long time. Michael was sure his thoughts must have been screaming inside his head, he wasn’t sure that Gavin had ever been that quiet in his life. Not even in the recent weeks. The room was filled by the gentle sound of their breathing and the wind that whistled past the window outside. The day was cold out, but the two of them were warm snuggled together.  
After a while, Gavin draped an arm over Michael and propped himself up to look him in the eye. “Will you draw me again?” He asked finally, his voice barely a whisper.

Michael leaned forward and softly pressed his lips to Gavin’s for only a moment. He smiled lightly at the silly little boy he loved very much, “I promise, I will.”

\--

Epilogue

As the time ticked on by, more and more people slowly began to discover Michael’s talent for art. At first it was a great shock to Michael’s system; people asking to see his work or even to be the subject of his latest piece. At seeing his work people would always give him praise, gushing over the quality of his art style. However, Michael always shrugged it off with a “thanks, but it’s really not that good.” The fact that he had very little faith in himself disheartened everyone who witnessed it; but none more than Gavin. Michael’s art was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was like he had been shown a new aspect of life that he had not known of. Many things baffled the brain of Gavin Free and Michael’s art was one of them. How was it that lines on a piece of paper could invoke so many emotions within Gavin?

People had begun tweeting about Michael’s art, from Monty’s “talent” tweets to Burnie’s “proud” ones the audience soon became aware of the hobby. And naturally the pestering began and quite quickly so. People had requested that Michael post photos of his work and when the opportunity arose Geoff suggested that he take it.

As Michael’s début into the online art community it was highly suggested that he post a time lapse video. Upon asking Twitter for suggestions in relation to the subject of his work the vast majority of the replies asked (practically demanded) for Gavin. And who was Michael to disappoint the fans? Gavin was more than happy to offer his superior modelling skills once more to the lovely Michael and his worthwhile cause. “For the people,” Michael had persuaded.

Michael had set up an old desk out in the annex. He had the intern, Blaine, set up an expensive camera that was capable of the time lapse functionality he wanted and he had set up his acrylic paints and brushes across the table. All that was left was to film, edit and post.

Michael sat at a rickety desk chair, a large piece of art paper set up in front of him. Gavin sat on the corner of the desk, legs crossed over one another, jaw positioned so that it was slightly angled away from Michael. With the camera situated behind him, the back of Michael’s head was within the frame; as was Gavin at the very top of the screen. However, the main attraction, of course, was the blank page waiting to be filled.

Michael stood and walked to where the camera and tripod was tilted precariously; threatening to topple over. He hit the record button, waited for the blinking red dot to appear and moved back around to begin his work.

It hadn’t been long since he last drew Gavin. He had become the subject of his art pieces more and more frequently as the time ticked on by. However, Michael had never painted Gavin. So, picking up a tub of paint, Michael squeezed a small amount straight onto the desk and began. There was no reason for him to not ruin the desk; so why waste his time with pallets? He had decided to start off with a bright blue colour as his base. He was straying from the traditional art styles and decided to use those colour techniques more suited to that of Picasso.  
Instead of a pale skinned Gavin with run of the mill brown hair he would be an explosion of colour and interest. He set to work with the blue paint with a small sized brush. He let the bristles mark the paper with confident and deliberate strokes. Gavin began to watch with interest, chatting with Michael about his plans for the piece.  
Michael’s hand swept over the page, painting Gavin more from memory than from the actual man sitting in front of him. That way it was from the heart.

Placing the used paint brush in a mason jar filled with water, Gavin “oo”’d as the water turned a light shade of blue. Michael picked up the red paint tube and squeezed a small amount onto the table right by the blue paint.  
Then, uncapping the white tube he dispensed an even smaller amount beside the red. Taking a larger brush he mixed the red and white paints together to create a dark shade of pink.  
He added a slight drop more of red to darken it before placing the new brush into the water jar and letting the pink mix in with the blue.

He took the first brush between his fingers and after drying it quickly on his jeans, he dipped the tip of the brush into the newly mixed pink paint.  
He began to paint Gavin’s basic features with the pink colour. His eyes, nose and lips; all bursting with colour.

He next mixed up a vibrant orange colour with the red and yellow paints. He added the accent colour to the middle of his lips and began on his hair.

Afterwards, he used a lime green colour on the irises of his eyes and placed dark blue dots on the surrounding eye area. He then added the same blue dots to the corners of his mouth and down his neck.  
Taking a deep purple Michael added more of Gavin’s hair into the picture and began to blend the colour together to create a very subtle gradient effect. He used the same dark purple colour to create shadows in the background and around the neck area.  
He washed the brush off and watched as the water turned an even more putrid hue of brown.

Gavin was extremely impressed as Michael continued to layer colours one after another; deep greens, more blues, a magenta. Each colour adding more dimension and depth to the painting; not just creating an image but an experience. 

Michael once again picked up the tube of white paint. He unscrewed the cap and squeezed a significant amount onto the desk beside him. He took the smallest brush of the set and began to work on highlighting the piece to give it a more in-depth feel and look. It was as if he was breathing life into the inanimate Gavin on the page.

It seemed as though the Gavin trapped on the paper was simply frozen in his place; unblinking, breath held tightly within his lungs. It captured the very essence of Gavin.

The real life Gavin began to giggle from his place on the desk. As Michael swept a hand across his face to keep his hair from falling in his eyes he left a great streak of paint across his cheek.

He cupped a hand over his mouth to stifle his giggling. He remained quiet and returned to watching Michael who had picked up a sponge and begun to very quickly and carefully dab a deep turquoise colour to the background. Amidst his painting Michael’s face began to itch as the paint he was still unaware of started to dry under the hot lights.

Naturally, Michael paused, holding the sponge in his left hand and raised his right to scratch at his cheek. As his fingers grazed across his skin he began to leave thick lines of the turquoise colour with the rest of the paint. This time Gavin couldn’t contain his childish laughter; squawking in true Gavin Free fashion. Michael’s head shot up from the art he was surveying. His eyes danced over Gavin questioningly.  
“What?” He asked, confusion colouring his voice. Gavin, unable to contain himself, was still giggling quietly and flashing Michael a bright smile.

Michael’s heart beat hard in his chest, a small smile creeping onto his face. That smile upon the other man’s face played with his heart. His stomach flipped about and his eyes locked with Gavin’s.

The latter smirked, eyes darting from Michael’s eyes to the paint on his cheek to his lips.  
“Michael, you’ve got a little bit of something something,” he teased, tapping his own cheek as an indication. Michael cocked his head to the side and hastily lifted his hand to wipe at his face mistakenly adding more paint to the mix.

Gavin laughed again, this time softly, sweetly and filled with a feeling of warmth. As the sound graced Michael’s ears his hand fell from its position in his fruitless attempt to remove the paint from his face.

“Here,” Gavin started, reaching out a hand across the table and over the art work between them. He placed his fingers on Michael’s cheek, resting them there for a moment. Michael’s face blushed under the warm and gentle touch. Gavin swept his finger across the skin, lightly applying pressure to remove the paint. His fingertips gently grazed over Michael’s bottom lip.  
Michael’s breath hitched with a shaky gasp.

Gavin began to lean his body forward, gripping the edge of the table to keep himself balanced. His face was perched precariously close to Michael’s. He bit nervously at his bottom lip.  
He took a deep shaky breath, filling his lungs and very slowly and carefully leaned in closer to Michael; their lips millimetres apart.  
Gavin’s warm breath ghosted over Michael’s lips making them tingle and tickle ever so slightly. Michael’s eyes fluttered shut, his lips parted.  
“Gavin,” he whispered, voice barely audible but with such little space between them Gavin could hear just fine.  
“Uh huh,” Gavin murmured, breath caressing Michael’s lips once more. The artist let out a quiet groan, desperately wishing to kiss the man in front of him.  
“The camera,” he argued against his own feelings, gesturing a weak hand toward the camera above and behind him. Gavin’s eyes moved to look into the camera. A smiled danced across his shadowed face. And with a quick wink into the lens he murmured “let them see,” his eyes returning to Michael’s lips before closing the space between them and kissing him gently.


End file.
